


H̶I̶R̶A̶E̶T̶H̶

by RainbowStalker



Category: The Maine (Band)
Genre: Fluffy, Home, Homesick, M/M, Self-Discovery, i think john swears like once or something, sickfic at some point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-24 12:13:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6153372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowStalker/pseuds/RainbowStalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say home is where the heart is, and Kennedy had never given it much touch until he started longing for more than just an empty apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	H̶I̶R̶A̶E̶T̶H̶

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> So this story had been around for a while (since mid 2014). I never thought it would take that long, but I'm always a bit harder on myself when writing for my OTP and this story was kind of a big deal to me, as self-discovery has always been a subject I've held really close to me as well. I really wanted it to be perfect, sigh. I sure hope it's at least good!

There we were, waiting at the Paris airport for a connection flight to Miami. After three long weeks of touring in Europe, we were finally going home. It had been lots of fun. Meeting tons of wonderful, unique people and being on the road with my best friends was an incomparable experience, but it was also exhausting, especially with the jet lag. We had just been getting used to the different time zones and it was already time to go back. While I couldn't wait to return to hot Arizona, I couldn't help but feel like a small part of me stayed everywhere we visited. Still, I loved our lifestyle, with all the other musicians, the touring and the people. After all, at the end of the day, it all came down to one passion: music.

However, as I gained maturity, I began to wonder about life. As we moved so much, there came the question as to where home was. I had my own apartment, a bedroom with a cozy bed and clothes lying around, yet even after a month of sleeping in a rented van and the occasional cheap hotel, it still appeared uninviting to me. That homely feeling was missing. It was my place, but not my home.

On our time off from touring, I mostly found myself at the studio, either making music, rehearsing or just hanging out. Maybe that was my home, my place I could always return to.

It was constantly so full of life: Tim running around, making sure everything was in order, John trying to come up with concepts and lyrics, Jared trying new things on the guitar, Garrett always behind his camera, trying to get a shot of everything happening, our friends coming over to share ideas. And then there was Pat.

I wasn’t sure exactly of how to describe what it was that he did. It wasn’t that he did nothing. It was, in fact, quite the opposite; he did everything. It seemed whatever anyone was doing, he was there, always throwing in crazy ideas and being happy. He just did so much it was almost as if he lived at the studio. It was no doubt he must have spent a handful of nights there, working until he crashed, curling up around a cushion on one of the couches.

A smile tugged at my lips at the thought. I made a mental note to stay around next time it seemed like he would be at it for a long time, hoping to maybe find a little Pat in a blanket the next morning.

I was pulled out of my pondering by our tour manager, Hurley, speaking. ‘Okay guys, there was a problem with the flight and it's been delayed a bit… a bit being four hours.’ We all groaned. ‘Since it would be a pain to rebook with all the touring material already checked in, we'll have to wait. Whatever you decide to do, don't leave the airport and be back here in three and a half hours–a quarter to one–or we're leaving without you.’

Everyone looked at each other and plans were made. Being tired and having just eaten breakfast, I declined all offers to _explore the airport_ , along with John and Pat, who just remained sat on either side of me. John sighed before reaching for the nearest newspaper, boredom-filled eyes slowly scanning across the pages as he flipped through it. Finding something of interest, he pulled a pen out of his bag and started scribbling. Someone had clearly gone for the crosswords.

I checked my phone for messages, but of course no one was up: it was nine am **in Paris**. Turning my head to my left, I could see Pat curled up in a ball, shoes off. He had his head half on a puppy plush, droopy eyes fighting to stay open. Before I could even realise it, a smile had pushed its way to my lips. How I was going to miss this when the tour was officially over.

Soon enough, sleep overcame Pat and, if I leaned in close enough, I could distinguish his soft snores through the lively noises of the airport.  
‘Kenny, you're staring.’

‘What?’

‘Pat. You're staring at him. Make your move or stop, it's getting a bit creepy,’ muttered John, eyes still on the newspaper in his hands.  
‘Wait, what?’ I knew I had been staring, but making a move, really? Not happening.

John, however, seemed to think otherwise. Once he was sure that Pat was sound asleep, he got up and announced, ‘I'm going for a coffee, I'll be right back,' before casually giving Pat a delicate push, making him land on my shoulder. With one last smirk, he was off, leaving me to my thoughts.

It was then that all hell broke loose. In my mind, that was. While I was able to keep the heat from reaching my cheeks, I couldn't keep my thoughts from racing. The weight on my shoulder seemed all that much more noticeable, but feather light at the same time. The boy was so tired he didn't even stir. One light push would have sufficed to shake him off my shoulder and back into his seat without him even realising it, but did I want to? It wasn't that I was embarrassed or that I didn't like it; it was that it felt right. Though thoughts were jolting in my head, everything else inside of me seemed to still, leaving me just feeling content there, in that uncomfortable airport seat.

Careful as not to wake him up, I delicately worked my arm to rest around Pat, preventing it from awkwardly sitting between us. Suddenly, I didn't feel so unfortunate to have our flight delayed.

‘Hey beautiful bastards,’ came John, coffee in hand. 'Looking quite cozy over there, I see.'

‘I can't say the same about you,’ I shot back.

‘Well, I'd cuddle with you two lover boys, but I wouldn't want to intrude.’

I was about to shoot back that he wouldn’t, but as I began to think, I settled for an eye roll. I somehow couldn’t imagine John curled up around me, like Pat was. I would have liked to be able to convince myself that it was because he wasn’t as tiny, but I knew that it wasn’t that.

I let my eyes wander over to the ever-so-busy airport crowd, a distracted hand finding its way to Pat’s hair, absentmindedly playing with the soft brown locks as I waited for time to pass. I smiled as I felt him lean further into the crook of my neck, a strong sense of familiarity overcoming me at the closeness.

Somehow, hearing his soft, steady breathing relaxed me. Even the commotion of all the travellers running in every direction to catch their flights couldn't seem to bother me. Minutes flowed, slowly turning into hours as my eyes carelessly swung back and forth between Pat and the general airport landscape.

Eventually, the others started getting back from their "adventure", not sparing us a second glance as they took a seat nearby, quietly talking amongst themselves. I half ignored them, too tired to care. It was only when Hurley came back that I remembered to check my phone for the time: 12:33. As the call for first class was made, I decided it was a good time to wake Pat up.

‘Hey, Pat. It's almost time to go,’ I said, as softly as I could manage without my voice completely drowning in the surrounding noises. He stirred a little and gave a small whine, before blinking his eyes open. ‘Come on, you can sleep some more on the plane. Nine more hours, to be precise.’

That seemed to somehow convince him, as he slowly lifted his head off my shoulder, hands coming (and failing) to rub the sleep out of his face, cute habit of his. Suddenly, he looked flustered. Avoiding my eyes, he shifted back into his seat, clumsy fingers struggling with the zipper of his backpack, not awake enough to coordinate his movements properly. Really, it was adorable. I leaned forward to see pink cheeks and a shy frown adorning his face. I just shook my head fondly, also unable to stop the chuckle escaping my lips at the sight of his enigmatic expression, accidentally catching his attention. His head shot up and his lips curled upwards, nervousness seeming to dissolve when he saw that I was smiling.

A few minutes later, we were called for boarding. I sent Pat a teasing smirk as I sat down next to him, silently thanking whichever higher spirit had decided to sit us together on the plane. As a response, he stuck his tongue out in a childish, but Pat-like way.

‘Nap time?’ I asked him.

‘Sure,’ responded John from the row behind, hand skillfully slipping between Pat and me to pull the arm rest up in a motion almost as smooth as the expression he wore on his face at that exact moment. ‘You can’t cuddle with things in the way, right?’

‘He’s just jealous,’ I stage whispered to Pat, who had turned a nice shade of pink, trying to make himself as small as he could in the seat next to mine.

After a bit of him avoiding my gaze, rather trying to focus his attention on the window, fatigue caught up with him again. I could see Pat struggling to stay awake, eyes slowly slipping closed despite his obvious efforts to keep them open.

‘Pat,’ I chuckled, ‘you look like you’re about to pass out. Get your plush out and let’s actually nap. And cuddle.’

That seemed to pull him out of whatever trance he has seemed to be in and red reinvaded his cheeks.

Soon enough, his stuffed toy was back on his lap.

‘Come on,’ I said, slipping an arm around him, ‘you can sleep on my shoulder.’ Feeling his hesitation, I pulled him closer, ignoring John making kissy faces a row behind. ‘Come on, cupcake. Nap time,’ I whispered gently in his ear, hoping to soothe him enough so that he could sleep. It seemed to have worked, because soon enough, all the tension dissipated from his body.

As I just gazed at him, I found myself unable to resist the overwhelming need to press a kiss on top of his head, so I did.

However, after a few minutes of watching him dozing on my shoulder, all the tiredness I had been ignoring came back to me. Closing my eyes and resting my head atop his, I let sleep pull me under.

 

  
As tired as one might be, sleep cycles don’t last forever. That is how I found myself awake some eight hours later, Pat still cuddled to my side, sound asleep with his head nested in the crook of my neck. Unable to go back to sleep, I delicately reached into my pocket to pull my phone out, careful as to not wake him up. My efforts were vain, as even my slight shuffling sufficed to pull him from his dreams. Blinking a few times, he lightly tilted his head back to look at me through half-lidded eyes, sleep still heavy on his face. He gave me a small smile before repositioning himself on my side, head drowsily resting in the crook of my neck as we both waited for our bodies to fully awaken, which they never really did.

One hour-long airport sit-down and one two hours flight later, our limbs still lacked coordination as we made our way to the baggage claim.

As I sat in our cluttered van, listening to the others go on about how they couldn’t wait to get home, my mind wandered back to my empty apartment. Of course, I missed my bed, my shower and being able to wear clean clothes. Sadly was all there was to my place; a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, a tiny living room, and the laundry room downstairs. It was small, and thank goodness it was, because I could hardly imagine how void and cold a bigger space would feel.

Much too soon, we reached my building. A quick goodbye to the guys and I was out. My apartment was exactly as I had left it before tour; messy, plain, empty. Not that I had been expecting much else, really. It was all just wishful thinking, longing for something more, perhaps.

I brushed the thoughts off, much too tired to be getting into such deep thoughts. I considered showering for a moment, before just throwing the whole contents of my suitcase in the laundry basket. Regardless of the fact that it was barely five in the afternoon, I stripped down to my boxers and I went to bed, slipping between thin sheets in the hot Arizona weather.

Next thing I knew, it was nine in the morning and my eyes wouldn’t stay shut.

Around what must have been one – a shower, two loads of laundry, a trip to the grocery store and a lunch later – I made my way to the studio.

As I sat in my beat up car, I couldn’t help but feel some kind of excitement bubbling up in the pit of my stomach.

Some twenty minutes later, I was finally there. As soon as I put a foot inside, I was absorbed into the studio’s lively atmosphere. I spotted Pat across the room, chatting with Sean. As our eyes crossed, he sent me a small smile before turning back to his conversation.

A strong sense of familiarity overcame me and for a while, I thought I had finally found home, with these guys, my family.

 

  
It was only a few weeks later, on some fateful Tuesday, that I realised my question might not have been solved.

When I came in that morning, even through the studio’s constant agitation, I could tell something was off. It still had that vague feeling of home, of the place where I belonged, but I knew something was missing.

Uneasy, I gave the room a quick scan: Garrett, Jared and Tim were chatting in the corner, next to the guitars, the This Century boys were near the soundboards, John was relaxing on the couch, drinking a soda, Lydia were in the next room, sat at a table… then it clicked.

‘Where’s Pat?’ I asked the person closest to where I was standing – who just happened to be John.

‘What? Oh hey Ken,’ greeted the singer, expression turning a bit too smug for my liking as he took in my sentence, ‘how do you even know he’s not in? You’ve been here for like two minutes.’

‘I don’t see him?’ I tried, not really feeling like explaining everything.

‘He might have just gone to the bathroom?’ he remarked, making me rethink my logic. ‘But really, Jared was absent last week and you didn’t notice it until I did.’ Smug bastard.  
I hoped he was happy, because I was out of excuses to give him. I sighed and stared at him as he sipped at his can. He must have taken pity on me, because after a minute, he finally answered my question. ‘He’s sick. Tim said he had a fever and he forced him to stay home. I’d say he’s sleeping right now.’

‘Oh.’ Because really, what else could I say? It was just a cold. He’d be okay by himself, right?

I sighed again and made my way to the guitar wall, intending on discussing some new songs we had been working on.

Some four unproductive hours later, I still couldn’t get Pat out of my mind. I didn’t know what it was about him that made me care so much. Sure, we were very close, but I was also close to all the guys, especially the ones in our band. John had been right, though; Jared had missed last Monday and I hadn’t noticed anything different.

It was more than time for a break.

I made my way to my car, firmly set on figuring out what it was about Pat’s absence that made the day feel so wrong. I would have liked to convince myself that it was because he was so involved in everything, but deep down I knew that it wasn’t the reason. I knew that the feeling I had now grown used to having upon entering the studio might have been related to more than our 8123 family as a whole.

After a quick stop to the drugstore, some twenty minutes later, I pulled into Pat’s driveway. Grabbing the bag from the passenger seat, I got out of my car and made my way to the house. I rang the doorbell and waited.

When I had still no answer after two or three minutes, I started getting worried. My car was the only one around, which meant he was probably home alone. It figured he might have been be in bed.

Just as I was about to try texting him, the door slowly opened, revealing an exhausted-looking Pat leaning against the doorframe. An oversized t-shirt hanged off his tiny frame as he struggled to even stand. His cheeks were bright red and his hair messy, yet I couldn’t find myself seeing him as anything but cute, beautiful, even.

Small, fisted hands came to rub tired eyes as he gave me a small smile, attempting to step aside to let me in.

Uncoordinated and dizzy don’t go very well together, and that’s exactly what a fever does to you. As he took a step backwards, he lost balance. I nearly dropped my bag of groceries as I rushed forward to catch him. Suddenly, I felt terrible about making him come all the way downstairs in such a condition. Slowly helping him back into his feet, I went in and closed the door, locking it behind us.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, small body leaning into mine for support. I could only chuckle a bit.

It was only as I wrapped my arms around him that I realised how much he was shaking, and from what I could make out of his state, he couldn’t even stand on his own. There was no way I was letting him climb the stairs back to his second floor bedroom. Slipping my right arm under his knees, left one on his back, I easily picked him up. He let out a whimper at the sudden movement, coming to bury his face in my chest as I made my way upstairs and into his room.

The lights were off. Stuffed animals and extra blankets could be discerned through the darkness, some fallen to the ground.

I spotted his dog plush next to his dresser and made a mental note to get it once he was taken care of.

Carefully, I lowered him onto the bed, making sure he was comfortable before letting go. He turned on his side as I tucked him in, looking at me through half lidded eyes. He let out a weak whine as I pulled my hands away. Slightly alarmed, I scanned his face for any sign of pain, feeling relief when I found none. I went back to the dresser to get the stuffed dog and slipped it under the blanket, right next to Pat.

Once I felt everything was set, I turned towards the door for a short trip to the bathroom. I was about to take a first step when I heard Pat calling for me. ‘Kenny, don’t go…’  
And he sounded so sad I just had to turn around. When I did, I could see him pouting at me through the darkness of the room. Without thinking, I bent down and kissed his forehead. As expected, it was burning hot. ‘I’ll be right back,’ I whispered, putting my bag of groceries on the floor.

I had no idea what had come over me, but I didn’t have time to think about it. In that exact moment, I had other things to take care of.

Shoving the thought aside, I went into the bathroom and rummaged through the cupboards hurriedly, not wanting to leave Pat alone for too long. I knew worrying so much was silly considering he had been just fine on his own for the first half of the day, but I couldn’t help it.

I felt a small wave of triumph as I found what I was looking for. So much for small victories.

I went back to Pat’s bedroom. Crouching next to him, I softly said, ‘open up,’ which he did.

As gently as I could manage, I slipped the thermometer into his mouth, hoping he would get the idea and place it under his tongue. About a minute later, a beep resonated through the room. I braced myself as I looked at the numbers: 101 F.

I felt some sense of panic rise in my chest. No, it wasn’t anything life threatening, but two degrees higher and I’d have to take him to the hospital. Sighing, I set on getting a glass of water so he could take the medication I had bought on the way here.

It didn’t take me long to find the glass, but getting a sleepy Pat to swallow a big pill was something else. Some ten minutes later, Pat was back under the covers and I was getting ready to leave the room so he could get some sleep.

As I stood up, I felt a tug on the hem of my shirt. Turning around once again, I crouched down next to the bed.

‘Kenny… stay.’ I was powerless to resist the adorable pout he was giving me. He could have asked me anything and, with a face that cute, I probably would have accepted.

I let out a chuckle. ‘Of course, but you have to sleep so you get better, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up,’ I reassured, really meaning it.

He nodded quickly, cuddling his stuffed dog to his chest, eyes falling shut in an instant. I smiled at the sight, simply deciding to sit on the floor, my back against the bedside table. I listened to his breathing becoming easier as the medication took effect.

And just when I had thought he had fallen asleep, I heard him mumble, ‘Thank you Kenny, I love you.’

The words hit me like a ton of bricks. Just like that, I was reminded of how much I had to think about.

Up to a few hours ago, I thought I had it all figured out. But how could one have everything figured out with such a long road ahead of them? If only I could find where I belonged, maybe at the end of the journey, I’d have a home to go back to.

Turning my head slightly, I could see Pat sleeping on his side, face snuggled in his plushie. I smiled at the sight.

I hadn’t really given our relationship much thought, really. Of course, there had been this moment of questioning, a quest for identity. However, through the years, I had found my need to belong to a specific group lessening. Eventually, I had just let the question slip, deciding just to go with what felt right.

My lips fell into an easy smile as I remembered all the days where Pat had insisted we explored. No matter how tired we were, I always indulged him. Even after late nights, we would get up earlier than the others and go out, just the two of us getting lost in the heart of the world’s biggest cities. My mind wandered to the way his face scrunching up in the cutest way when he’d take a sip of whatever I had ordered when we went to the bar. Then there were the nights when we stayed up late, talking about everything and nothing. Those would always be my favourites. We’d cuddle up on the couch, his head resting on my lap while we discussed whatever came to our minds. In those moments, everything was right and the rest was just what it was; the rest.

Thinking back, it all made so much sense, how a single person’s presence made me feel as if I could move mountains. Being around Pat always gave me a certain sense of peace. It might seem a bit odd, with him all hyper at times, but he calmed that restless part of me, the one that longed for stability.

I had grown to believe my purpose within the 8123 family was the thing that kept me grounded. And then he wasn’t there anymore. It was only for a moment, but deep down, I knew I was already missing Pat’s shy smiles and his cute expressions. It was at that place and time that I had to admit that I felt a bit lost and that maybe I needed someone by my side to be the best I could be.

Could it be love? If it was, then I was more than fine with it.

Several minutes passed with just the sound of his breathing to keep me company. While the sound of just him was soothing to me, I still worried. Turning to look at him, I could see him on his side, face half pressed into the pillow, half hidden behind his stuffed dog. Reaching up, I touched my inner wrist to his forehead, sighing in relief as it felt a little cooler than the last time.

As I pulled back, I heard a soft whine. I looked down to find two brown orbs staring at me.

‘Are you leaving?,’ he asked weakly, looking truly heartbroken at the idea.

I shook my head, reaching out again to tuck a few strands of hair behind his ear. ‘Of course not, cupcake; I was just checking to see if your fever had gone down.’

‘M’kay,’ came Pat’s response, voice heavy with sleep.

I could see him struggling to keep his eyes from slipping shut.

I chuckled at the cute sight. ‘Just go back to sleep, love.’ He gave me a shy smile in return.

‘Stay?’

‘As long as you’ll have me.’

And I did.

Laying yet another kiss on his forehead, I rested my head on the covers, ready to finally go to sleep myself.

I felt content, whole. At last, I was where I was meant to be.

What a journey.

 

  
I had always thought finding home would calm my wanderlust. But I was so wrong. It just made it stronger. There are just so many things, so many miles I’m dying to share with Pat now that I’ve really found him.

I didn’t need to return home; all I needed to stay grounded was him.

 

 

  
FIN

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! 
> 
> It's my baby. 
> 
>  
> 
> Note that I'm pretty sure most people can't tell a fever by just touching someone (normal body temp. being around 98.6°F and a fever being just about 2 degres higher), but I had to use that method for the sake of the story.


End file.
